Stranger Things
by clayfish32
Summary: Dancing with strangers. Yep. That's all you get. For more, read on... ;o


Stranger Things

A/N: Dancing with strangers. Yep. That's all you get. For more, read on... ;o) all mistakes are mine.

Disclaimer: I wish.

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He approached her cautiously so as to not scare her off. She was sitting alone at a table in a darkened corner, but her radiant beauty did not escape him.

"Ma'am." He tipped his hat. It was polite to do so and his mother had taught him nothing if not to always be a gentleman.

"Evening cowboy." She smiled politely at him but was otherwise distracted.

He noticed that there was an empty coaster opposite hers. She'd been waiting awhile, he deduced from the multiple lipstick impressions around the rim of her glass. This must not have been her first drink either, as it was nearly full.

Not wanting to appear rude he attempted to engage her in conversation. "So, looks like you got all gussied up for something. Meeting someone special?" He rocked back on his heels casually.

She sighed. "I was supposed to."

His heart broke for her. He too knew what it was like to be alone.

"Begging your pardon ma'am, I don't want to intrude, but would it be too much to ask to join you—at least while you wait for your special someone?"

She glanced at her watch and played with her glass. "He's more than fashionably late—I expect he won't be coming after all, but if you'd like to join me for a bit I promise I won't run away."

He tipped his hat again and bowed slightly before taking the seat opposite hers. In no time flat a waiter appeared and the gentleman ordered her another drink and a scotch for himself.

xxxxx

When their drinks arrived he took off his hat and lay it on the table beside him. Swirling his drink he took a long sip and placed his glass in front of him. He watched as she tapped absentmindedly on the table to the beat of the music in the background. She noticed his gaze and stopped mid-tap.

Why hadn't she noticed the color of his eyes before—so vibrant and deep? She supposed it was because they'd been hidden beneath the brim of his hat.

He could feel heat creeping up his neck and onto his cheeks—and he had the distinct feeling that it wasn't the alcohol that caused it.

"I'm sorry to have barged in on you like this..." He started to stand and was startled when her hand fell to his.

"Dance with me."

It wasn't a question and he was transfixed by the sudden change in her demeanor. This beautiful creature who had only moments before been distant and distracted was now leading him to the dance floor, swaying her hips seductively.

He was in trouble and he knew it.

xxxxx

As they reached the dance floor she turned to face him as she moved to the rhythm of the music. The song was upbeat-totally out of his league-yet he found himself at ease even when she released his hand.

For the second time that night he thought of his mother, who had made him take classical dance lessons as a child. Who knew that that would actually pay off someday? Sure it wasn't quite the bumping and grinding that was going on elsewhere on the floor, but he could tell that his female companion was enjoying some of his moves.

The music eventually slowed and softened and her fingers danced along the collar of his jacket barely grazing his neck until they rested clasped behind it. His hands found her hips and he felt like an awkward teenager. This had always been the one kind of dance he didn't feel comfortable doing, but when her head fell to his shoulder he knew that he must be doing something right and began to relax for the first time that night.

As the song ended a small jazz trio took the stage and the couple made their way back to their dimly lit corner table.

The gentleman ordered them each another drink and they fell into a comfortable silence. From time to time one would ask the other a question that would be answered and followed by another period of silence.

Neither noticed the thickening of the air.

Both noticed temperature rising.

She broke the silence this time. "So what brings you here tonight?"

The alcohol was starting to give him a pleasant buzz and her found himself sharing openly with this woman. "I was lonely." That was it. No need to embellish. "Yourself?" She got that distant look in her eyes and he quickly sputtered "I mean—you don't have to answer that if you don't want to. I'm sorry." She looked up and smiled at him. "The same." She looked down at her hands before continuing.

"Well, that and my special someone suggested that we pretend to be different people for the night."

She looked up at him with a twinkle in her eye. "I think it's one of his more creative ideas for a date yet. He can be predictable at times."

"How's that?"

"Oh, you know—movie, romantic dinner, moonlit stroll, something like that. He doesn't usually like to dance with me-says I have two left feet."

He took her hand in his. "He doesn't know what he's missing out on. I think you're a wonderful dancer."

Her alcohol induced flush took on another shade of pink and she stood once more. "How about one more dance?"

He pushed back from the table and lay a few bills down to cover their tab. "I would love to ma'am, but I'm afraid I'd get in trouble with my wife if I danced with such a beautiful lady any more tonight."

"You're married?"

"Only just." He offered no more.

"Where is your wife?"

"Oh, knowing her...probably out partying." It was the gentleman's turn to have a far off gaze, but his companion's giggle brought him quickly out of it.

"What?"

"Gil, I'm hardly the partying type." She laughed again.

"What do you call this then?"

She moved towards him and spun them back to the dance floor. "Dancing with my husband," she whispered.

"Oh. Then I guess my wife won't mind one more dance."

She lay her head on his shoulder as they swayed to the music. "She'd insist on at least two more."

He grinned. "Sara, my love, you never cease to amaze me. Dance with me?"

"Forever."

fin

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